by Curt Kovener 
We are about three weeks away from a family reunion at the wilderness retreat so the reclaiming of walk paths, trails and lane from the lush, early spring growth has already begun.
Family reunions are important because they allow us to make and recall memories of our youth and to perhaps learn some unknown stories, events and relationships in our familial past. The family reunions we go to with the intention of sharing food and laughter are so much better than the forced reunions we have due to funerals. And as I continue to gray, the funerals seem to come with more frequency.
So after two days of mowing, brush clearing, and pruning some overhanging branches, I think the property will be ready to receive guests by July 4.
Change seems to be the constant at the wilderness home but the needed siding replacement will have to wait until after the reunion. My construction work speed is akin to a snail so I do not want the front porch or rear deck any more unkept looking than they are.
We moved Grandma’s metal porch glider to the roofed portion of the rear deck. Rather than overlooking the lake to the west, it now provides a woodsy valley view of the creek.
This is where I now generally sit to contemplate and relax. Which is what I was doing Sunday afternoon until some sudden tromping and leaf rustling drew my attention. A female whitetail deer had been making her way undetected along the creek when she must have smelled we humans and ran.
But she stopped within tree veiled eyeview, turned toward the house and snorted several times in an attempt to get us to move so she could see just what danger was present.
We didn’t move; she didn’t move for the longest time.
Finally regaining some calm that no danger was present, her head began bobbing up and down as she browsed on some vegetation; her ears and tail twitching to ward off the biting deer flies.
But she quickly stopped and snorted again looking in the direction opposite from the house. A white & black feral cat was making its way down the ridge and unhurriedly walked along the creek. Finally spotting the feline the curious deer followed the cat down the creek.
Staying motionless all that time, I eventually stretched and thought that the time was right for an afternoon nap.
In my extreme youth (to be contrasted with my adulthood extremes) I would sleep in grandma’s glider on her front porch. I don’t exactly fit in it like I used to but if I curl up a bit I don’t overhang the ends too much. After getting situated I found that the old glider so familiar to my youth still offered a fresh air, rocking siesta complete with songbirds providing the lullaby.
